


No Room To Be Triggered

by sonofabitch_awesome



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Dean even swears on Baby at one point that he's okay, Destiel - Freeform, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Magical Healing Cock, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Top Castiel, very subtle references to what happened in Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 13:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3611028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonofabitch_awesome/pseuds/sonofabitch_awesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the time that Dean and Castiel have been together, it's been unspoken that Dean tops. Due to what happened in Hell, bottoming is not something he's been able to even think about for many years.</p><p>Until tonight.</p><p>They've been working up to it, and tonight will be their first time switching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Room To Be Triggered

**Author's Note:**

> There is one single line from a song I like. Gold star if you get it.

Dean is surprised by how much he’s been looking forward to tonight, and how urgently every cell in his body wants it. He knows he should probably be a little more apprehensive, but… He doesn’t know how, but somehow, everything feels like it’ll be okay. He can only hope the feeling lasts. 

Cas is lying half on top of him, every stitch of clothing still on. He’s kissing Dean almost tentatively, like he’s the first-timer here. So apparently, if they’re ever going to get this show on the road, Dean’s going to have to be the one to get things started. He reaches down to undo his jeans to get the pressure off his aching erection, and then slides his hands up along Cas’s chest, slipping them into his overshirt to nudge it off Cas’s shoulders.

Without breaking the kiss, Cas reaches behind himself to yank at the cuffs. He removes his overshirt and flings it somewhere to the side of the bed with a _whumpff_ that reminds Dean of the sound his wings used to make.

Dean clutches at Cas’s back as Cas kisses him harder and his tongue entwines with Dean’s. His legs open wider, letting Cas rest more comfortably between them. 

After a while, Cas pulls away, sitting back on his heels. He grasps the bottom of Dean’s Henley and tugs, and Dean props himself up so Cas can free it. They lose Cas’s blue T-shirt and their pants immediately afterward. Dean throws their shirts vaguely where the overshirt had gone and then kicks both pairs of pants off the bed before shifting his hips up to pull his boxers off. Cas follows and strips his own underwear off.

Now that they’re both naked, Cas slows down, looking at Dean uncertainly. His blue eyes are tinged with that same mixture of doubt, hope, worry, need, and shyness he’d had the very first time they’d had sex. Cas is just as nervous about tonight going well as he is, Dean realizes.

He lifts his head from the pillow to seal their mouths together. “It’s okay,” he says into Cas’s lips. “It’ll be good.”

When they part, Cas rests his forehead against the curve of Dean’s neck, pressing kisses into his throat. Slowly, annoyingly slowly, he starts to kiss his way down over Dean’s chest. He pauses briefly to capture Dean’s right nipple, sweeping his tongue over the little bud between his teeth and flicking at it. “Hurry up,” Dean finds himself whining.

“Be patient,” Cas laughs softly into his skin. “Relax.” He slides his hands down Dean’s sides as he shifts to give attention to the left nipple. Dean arches up beneath him, restless again, and Cas’s hands settle on his thighs. He massages both at the same time, rubbing and digging his fingers into the skin before slipping his hands farther down, agonizingly close to Dean’s erection.

“Oh, God, Cas,” Dean moans. He involuntarily holds onto Cas’s head, dark hair slipping through his fingers. “You’re killing me here.” Cas laughs again and releases his nipple.

Cas’s mouth trails down along Dean’s abs, Dean shivering with anticipation. But, frustratingly, Cas chooses to bypass the main event entirely, instead moving in short sparse motions down his right leg. All the way to his foot. Dean’s leg tries to flex away as Cas kisses the arch of his foot, but Cas is holding his calf motionless. He actually giggles. He can’t help it – this is too weird.

Cas smiles up at him and switches to Dean’s left foot, mercifully not attacking the arch this time but mouthing the very bottom of Dean’s toes. “I didn’t know you were ticklish,” he says. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“I’m _not_ ,” Dean protests. He proves himself a liar when Cas brushes his fingertips against the arch of Dean’s foot, causing another giggle. “Okay, okay! Stop, Ca—” And Cas does, even before Dean has finished speaking. So willing is he to stop if Dean needs him to.

Cas’s lips start back up Dean’s leg. He slows his path the closer he gets to Dean’s cock, but as before, he ignores it completely in favor of keeping his momentum – even when Dean groans in disappointment. Finally, Cas makes it up to Dean’s face again. They kiss for a moment, and Cas breaks away. “Turn over,” he whispers. 

Dean swallows nervously and nods. Cas shakes his head. “No, we’re not… Not yet,” he murmurs, reading Dean’s apprehension easily. “I’m not done here. Turn.”

Dean shifts away from him and rolls onto his stomach, lying with his head turned to the left so he can still look at Cas. He wants to say something about how he trusts Cas with topping tonight, but Cas already knows how he feels. Hell, they wouldn’t be trying this in the first place if they both weren’t on board with it.

When Cas lies flat alongside Dean to kiss him, his cock is pressed between their bodies, nudged up against Dean’s left ass cheek. Tension stiffens Dean’s shoulders, miniscule trembles rolling through him. A sense memory spikes, unbidden.

Immediately, Cas pulls away and pushes at Dean’s left bicep to roll him onto his side. “I’m sor—,” he starts.

“No, don’t apologize.” Dean shakes his head. “It’s—It’s okay.”

“Dean, we’ll stop immediately if you’re not all right,” Cas tells him, his eyes bright with worry. “Please, don’t feel like you have to do this.”

Dean takes a deep breath. “I _do_ want this,” he insists. “God, Cas, I… It’s you. You’re… Fuck, do you _know_ how many times I’ve thought of it this week?”

Cas looks at him for a long moment. Then, “If you’re even _one_ percent not okay…”

“Cas?” Dean begins, holding a hand up like he’s ready to swear on a Bible. “I swear on my _car_ I’m ready.” Cas’s eyes widen, and Dean grins. “Exactly.”

“Okay,” Cas acquiesces, shifting closer to kiss him again. Dean shuts his eyes and catches Cas’s lower lip between his own, feeling Cas’s tongue push forward cautiously to prod his mouth open. He responds eagerly to Cas’s lips and tongue, already relaxing again.

When they part, they stare at each other for a long moment. Dean nods and scoots back, getting enough room to roll onto his stomach again. He all but moans when Cas starts kissing the nape of his neck. As Cas moves swiftly down and over his back, Dean realizes there’s a pattern going. “Are you… are you kissing my name?” he asks, straining to see behind him.

“Maybe,” Cas murmurs, resting one hand on Dean’s left side and stroking a thumb over his back. 

He can’t fight the grin any more than he could fight the laughter at being tickled. “You dork.”

“You love it,” says Cas, momentarily resting his face on Dean’s back. His stubble is rough against Dean’s skin. 

“I do,” Dean admits, sighing with contentment. “God, I do.”

Cas rubs his right palm over the back of Dean’s upper arm. Pats lightly. “I know.” He lifts his head to kiss down again, pressing his lips firmly into the small of Dean’s back. Carefully, he slides his hand down along Dean’s side to rest on the curve of his right ass cheek. 

Dean’s breathing hitches. He realizes suddenly that Cas is waiting for him, and nods again, staring at the nightstand on the left of the bed. “Go ahead,” he tells him. Cas pulls his face up off the small of Dean’s back, and seconds later, Dean feels lips at the top of his ass.

He fights a grin. “Hey, you’re like, literally kissing my ass,” Dean says, his tone light.

“Yes, I am.” Cas is completely unself-conscious about this. “Do you have a problem with it?”

“No, it’s just… funny.” A small laugh snorts its way out, half of Dean’s grin catching on the pillow undernearth him. 

“I don’t care. I’m doing it anyway.” Cas scatters kisses over both ass cheeks, and then hesitates. His hands rest gingerly on Dean’s hips, his breath blowing slowly over Dean’s overheated skin as the silence drags on.

Dean exhales slowly. “Go ahead. I’m fine.” He reaches over to his nightstand and jerks the drawer open, digging around inside for the bottle of lube. He props himself up on one elbow and hands it back toward Cas.

Cas takes the bottle, but sets it aside. “Turn over,” he says instead. “You’re not ready yet, I can tell.”

“Yeah, I am, I—”

“ _Dean_.” Cas gives him that look again. That look like there is _nothing_ in the world as important as how Dean feels right now. That look so full of care and worry and concern and love that Dean’s breath honestly stops for a second. “You aren’t. You’re still worked up.”

He glances away. “M-maybe a… A little bit,” he admits, and turns onto his back.

Cas kneels between his legs, slipping his hands slowly up Dean’s thighs. For a few moments, he just massages, kneading the tension away. As Dean relaxes into his touch, his eyelids drift closed. He’s so turned on he almost can't stand it, but Cas’s hands are _amazing_ , rubbing and squeezing right the way he needs it. His thumbs press against the inside of Dean’s thighs a few times, getting closer and closer to his balls but not actually touching yet.

“You’re awesome, Cas,” Dean mumbles, contentment blurring the edges of his words into each other. He hears Cas chuckle once, and then he feels Cas shift farther down the bed. Dean opens his eyes and peeks down in time to see Cas take him into his mouth. _Fuck yeah_ , he thinks in delirious joy, fighting the instinct to buck his hips up right away. He reaches down to hold onto the back of Cas’s head lightly and practically hums with pleasure. “You are _lethal_ ,” he manages to gasp out.

The first few times Cas had blown him, it hadn’t quite worked out right. There had been unfortunate teeth contact not once, but _twice_ , on two separate occasions. And it took him until the fourth try to really get the rhythm right. 

Now, though…

Dean shudders again, his back arching up off the bed slightly. 

Cas pulls back off. “You seem to be enjoying this,” he rasps, and Dean glances down to meet his blown-eyed gaze. “Do you want to finish this way?”

It takes a few seconds for Dean to remember how to speak. His chest rises and falls as he stares at Cas. “No, god, _fuck_ no,” he finally manages, cradling the back of Cas’s head. “I want you… want you to fuck me. Please.”

“All right,” Cas says. He reaches out a hand. “Pillow.”

After Cas has gotten the pillow under Dean’s lower back, he lowers his head again, farther than before. Dean’s eyes slam shut when he feels the wet warmth of a tongue lapping at his entrance. Holy _hell_. He balls up handfuls of the sheets. “God _damn_ …”

A hand snakes upward, gently untangling one of his from the sheets and intertwining their fingers. _Relax_ , he can practically hear Cas telling him. The sensation is so incredibly strange and new that Dean can barely think. His ass is not exactly a stranger to having body parts inside it – _especially_ after Hell – but for whatever reason, he’s never gotten rimmed before.

But it’s amazing, and he is _definitely_ going to be sure to do this next time. Either giving or receiving. He doesn’t even care.

Cas prods his tongue forward, entering just a bit. Dean shudders and plants his feet, shifting down to get more of that amazing wetness inside of him. “Oh, _fuck_ … More. More, God, please, more.” Cas is only too eager to oblige, shoving inside and then back out in small jerky back-and-forth movements that wring whimpers and moans from Dean that he’s entirely too turned on to be embarrassed about.

Eventually, Dean realizes that one of Cas’s hands is moving, traveling over the sheets. Dean looks down again to see that he’s reaching for the lube. His heart skips a beat. Despite Cas’s unbelievable skill, he’s even _now_ almost as nervous as he is excited.

Evidently, Cas senses this. He glances up as his hand closes around the bottle, and pulls away from Dean’s hole. “I’m—” He stops to drag his hand over his mouth. “I won’t do anything to you without your knowledge, Dean,” he says reassuringly, sitting back on his feet. “I promise.” He transfers the lube to his left hand.

“Okay,” Dean says awkwardly. He licks his lips involuntarily.

They stare at each other for a moment.

“How you feeling?” Cas asks softly, running one hand along Dean’s left calf and skimming his nails in lightly.

Dean shivers again. “I’m all right… Hell, _look_ at me,” he adds, motioning to his erection, which has not flagged in the slightest at Dean’s apprehension.

“That’s not enough, Dean. I need a definite yes.” Cas thumbs the side of his knee, watching with a patient, unhurried expression. 

How the _fuck_ is this happening? How the hell did he end up in a relationship with someone who knows him so thoroughly? Apparently, when Cas was rebuilding him from the ground up after Hell, he memorized the instruction manual.

Dean exhales slowly. He takes a couple of minutes to relax, his heartbeat finding a regular rhythm again. “Yes,” he says finally. “Yes, Cas. But go… go slow.”

Cas crawls up his body and kisses his forehead. “Okay,” he whispers. He kisses Dean briefly, closed-mouthed. “Let me know immediately, okay? If…”

“I will,” Dean breathes back into his lips, still reeling from his own taste lingering on Cas’s mouth. “I swear.”

“I’m gonna put one finger in now,” Cas says, and kisses down his neck while he trails one hand down Dean’s side. 

“God, yes, Cas,” Dean manages to get out. 

He watches as Cas slides back down his body, sitting between his knees. He pops the cap off the bottle and applies a good amount to his hand, working it over his fingers. And then he’s there, his finger touching Dean’s entrance but not going any farther yet.

Dean swallows. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

Cas presses his lips to the top of Dean’s thigh as he gently prods forward to the first digit. He twists back and forth a little to get to the second digit. “Doing okay?” he asks, glancing up at Dean.

“Yeah, I’m—I’m okay,” Dean says with effort. And he is. They’ve spent a couple times before tonight doing this. Cas knows just how slow or fast to take things, how ready Dean is or not at times. He grasps handfuls of the sheets again as Cas works his finger all the way inside, moving back and forth and opening him enough for an additional one.

“Ready for the second?” Cas massages his right thigh with his free hand, taking his finger back out halfway. Dean nods and feels him pushing back in with a second one.

Cas works quietly after that, scissoring his fingers in determined but careful motions to work Dean open. He adds the third finger with his usual inquiry about how Dean’s feeling (hesitant, but _so_ eager he feels like he’s losing his damn mind). Cas kisses along the crease between Dean’s thigh and torso, darting his tongue out in short dashes as he goes. It’s so surprisingly intimate that another shiver cascades through Dean, and Cas lifts his head enough to look up at him. “You all right?” he asks, fingers stretching.

“Y-yeah,” Dean says shakily, almost trembling with simultaneous need and nervousness. He reaches a hand down, cupping the back of Cas’s head. “C’mere, though.” 

“Coming.” Cas drags the back of his free hand over his mouth again and climbs up Dean’s body. He rests his weight partially on his elbow and cradles Dean’s head. For a moment, they stare at each other, Cas smiling warmly down in unabashed fondness as he twists his fingers inside Dean.

Dean has to look away, glancing up at the ceiling helplessly. This is too much. This is all entirely too much. How the hell is he in this relationship to begin with? Doesn’t Cas know that Dean breaks everything, every _one_ he touches?

Cas moves his head to chase Dean’s gaze. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Dean licks his lips, his heart stuttering as he stares back. 

“How are you, Dean?” Cas brushes a thumb through his hair.

He’s… How does he even answer that? “I’m… I’m good,” he finally says. “I am.”

Cas waits.

“It’s just… s-sometimes I still can’t believe you wanna do this, to b… to be with me,” Dean admits. “I mean… why?”

Cas’s fingers momentarily slow their twisting actions and begin to push deeper and deeper within him. “Dean, if you want me to sit here and tell you all the reasons why I love you, all the times I’ve fallen deeper for you, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” 

_He loves me_ , Dean thinks in half-awe, half-terror. Realistically, he’d known this. Hell, Cas has _said_ he loves him. Several times. But every single time, every reminder, _still_ knocks him for a loop.

Cas is watching him. “Happiness is not a burden, Dean. I thought you were past this?”

“Yeah, no, I am, I am, I—…” Dean forgets how to speak and his hips lift up off the bed as Cas brushes against his prostate. “Fuck…”

“Does it really matter _why_?” Cas asks, leaning down and kissing him once before smiling down at him again. “I wish you could see yourself as I see you, Dean Winchester. Brave…” He kisses the center of Dean’s forehead. “Beautiful…” Kisses Dean’s nose as a flush warms Dean’s face. “Reckless…” Dean smirks wryly, and Cas kisses his left cheek. “Frustrating…” Right cheek. “Vibrant. Strong. Caring. Determined. Generous.” With every embarrassing word of praise, he kisses Dean’s mouth, firmer and firmer. He starts working his fingers again, stretching and widening, staying down away from Dean’s prostate this time.

Dean breaks away from the kiss after a few minutes. “Cas, I’m – I’m ready now,” he breathes, staring hard into the endless blue of Cas’s eyes. Cas stares back just as intently, asking without words. Dean smiles. “I’m sure. I’m _sure_ ,” he says, clear-cut and undeniable.

Cas swallows hard and kisses him one more time before scooting down his body. He pulls his fingers free and wipes them off on a couple of tissues from his bedside table.

As soon as Cas’s fingers are gone, Dean aches with their absence. He watches anxiously as Cas lubes up, snapping the top back on the bottle and casually tossing it onto his nightstand where it skitters across the top and falls off the side. Cas settles between Dean’s legs again and presses his knees into the sheets, gripping at the top of Dean’s thighs. He keeps their gaze locked as he lines up. The tip of his cock touches Dean’s entrance but makes no moves to enter yet.

Dean nods, and Cas flexes his hips forward. Dean’s eyelids flutter shut, but more because he’s a little overwhelmed than anything else. Cas isn’t _huge_ , but he’s not exactly small either, and the head of his cock stretches Dean’s rim uncomfortably before it pops fully inside and Dean can relax around him.

He realizes that that’s all Cas has moved. He’s barely inside at all. Dean opens his eyes and looks up. “I’m okay,” he reassures Cas. “Really, I am.”

Cas is concerned. “I’m not triggering anything? Anything at all? You can tell me, Dean. Please.”

“No, it’s… It’s fine,” Dean says, hearing his own surprise. “It’s… it’s definitely kinda strange cause it’s been so long, but I’m not afraid. And I’m not…” He lifts a hand and motions vaguely, unable to articulate exactly what else. “I’m actually okay,” he repeats instead.

Cas smiles gently and braces his weight on his hands, leaning down to kiss him again. “I’m glad to hear that, Dean,” he sighs, relief infusing every syllable. “Let me know when you’re ready for more.”

Dean runs his palms along the rough skin of Cas’s jawline. He prods Cas’s lips apart, licking into his mouth hungrily as one of his hands grazes upward into Cas’s hair. The other slides down over his shoulder and along his back, his fingers moving so lightly that it makes Cas tremble and slip a little further inside Dean.

Cas breaks the kiss with an abrupt smacking sound and looks down at Dean in worry.

Dean smiles. “I’m all right,” he says, tugging Cas back down. “You’re not hurting me.”

Cas shuts his eyes and rests his forehead against Dean’s. He breathes, his whole body shaking slightly.

“ _You’re_ okay too, aren’t you?” Dean asks suddenly, holding his right hand to the side of Cas’s face.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas affirms when he pulls back to meet his gaze. “It’s…” He takes a deep breath. “Could I… Are you..” His pupils are so blown, Dean can only see a tiny ring of blue skating around the edges. 

Dean nods desperately. “God, yeah, Cas. Yeah. I _need_ you deeper here.” He rocks his hips back so that he scoots down, trying to take more of Cas’s cock.

Cas props himself back up on his hands. Without breaking eye contact, he pushes farther inside of Dean, moving in short steady motions until he bottoms out.

They wait a moment before speaking. Dean’s head is tilted back, his eyes closed again.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?” He doesn’t move his head.

“How are you?”

Dean exhales and opens his eyes, tilting his chin to meet Cas’s gaze. “I’m…” How does he _say_ this?

Physically, it’s still a bit awkward. As much as he’s enjoying it, the fact remains that he hasn’t had any body parts in there since before Hell (except for the few previous times they’d spent with Cas working his fingers, letting Dean get used to how it felt). He feels stretched, and it _is_ a little strange, but it’s like his body has accepted that and is willing to trade off for this contentment of being full, of being so stuffed that he hadn’t even realized until now how much he’d needed this.

It feels like he’s been walking around, incomplete and not realizing it, for years. Having this, having Cas be in his life, be _inside_ of him… He doesn’t have words. 

And what makes it more amazing is that this is _Cas_ , holding him, over and around him. Anchoring him, keeping him safe, keeping the memories away. He doesn’t have any room to be triggered in the first place, because Cas had taken so much time to make him feel at ease beforehand.

Cas watches the emotions flicker over Dean’s face. “Talk to me,” he pleads quietly. 

Dean trails his hand back up along Cas’s spine and locks it on the nape of his neck. “I… Thank you,” he says inadequately. Cas’s brow furrows in confusion. “Just… For being _you_ , for everything… I’m _okay_ , Cas. I am. ’Cause of you.” He tightens his grasp and tugs Cas’s face back down.

Cas opens for him almost immediately, Dean’s tongue sliding forward over his. They kiss like it’s their first time all over again, shy and curious and horny as hell at the same time.

Eventually, though, Dean wants more. His legs are still bent up, his knees pointed toward the headboard. He unfolds them, keeping them in the air and closing them around Cas’s waist, tugging him in a fraction of an inch deeper as he does so. Experimentally, he clenches around Cas a little.

Cas lets out a rough gasp against his lips. “ _Dean_ …” He pulls back enough to look into Dean’s eyes, apparently overwhelmed with sensation.

“Feel good, huh?” A smile curves a corner of Dean’s mouth. Cas nods shakily, breath ragged. “What d’ya say we get going here?”

“Please,” Cas says desperately, the blue around his pupils even narrower.

Dean smirks. “Fuck me, Cas.”

And Cas does, pulling out slowly and re-entering carefully, like he’s afraid of shattering Dean into nothing but fragments of flashbacks and broken memories. It takes until the third time for him to really get any speed at all, pushing Dean into the mattress as he thrusts inside. 

Immediately he lifts his mouth away from where he’s been sucking bruises along Dean’s shoulder, glancing up in concern. “Too hard?”

Dean shakes his head. “Stop _worrying_ , Cas,” he pleads. “I want this. I do.” He holds onto Cas’s neck and jaw, dragging his face up and locking their mouths back together. When his lips are free, he looks at Cas intently. “I swear to you, I’ll say something if it gets to be too much.”

“Okay,” Cas accepts, kissing him into silence.

He fucks Dean without words after that, establishing a clumsy pace as he slowly finds his rhythm. A couple of times, his eyes flutter shut and he gasps at the sensations before wrenching his eyelids back open to check on Dean.

Dean smiles at him, his hands drifting up along Cas’s thighs to rest on his hips. “I’m okay. You’re doing fine.”

Cas presses his mouth to Dean’s jawline. “You are so important to me,” he breathes into Dean’s skin, thrusting a bit harder. 

Dean grips Cas’s lower back, sighing his name. “ _Castiel_ …” Cas’s kisses drift farther down his neck, but they increase in suction at the sound of his full name being used. _Interesting_ , Dean thinks. He constricts his legs around Cas’s waist, and Cas reaches down to lift one of Dean’s legs a little higher up. Dean nearly whimpers again as his prostate is attacked more directly.

Between Cas’s better aim and the friction of their stomachs around his dick, he’s getting close already. He tilts his head back on the pillow and moans. “Castiel… Faster,” he orders.

Fortunately, Cas complies. His hips work harder and faster, and if Dean didn’t know better he’d swear Cas was a damn _professional_ at topping. Cas trails his kisses back to Dean’s mouth, his tongue a hot slow drag along Dean’s. Closer… Closer…

Dean groans into Cas’s mouth, seeing stars behind his eyelids as he goes off. His dick twitches, the semen splattering between their bellies, and he clenches down on Cas’s cock. Cas almost bites down on Dean’s lip and follows immediately after. Dean can feel wet heat burst forth deep inside of him and wraps his arms around Cas’s shoulders.

Cas collapses on top of him, burying his face in the curve of Dean’s neck. He’s breathing raggedly, and his shoulders quake as he comes down.

Dean smiles and runs his palms up and down along Cas’s shaking back, sweat slipping between his fingers. “You’re okay,” he whispers. Cas is still breathing too hard to speak. Dean’s left hand drifts upward into Cas’s damp hair while his right one tightens on Cas’s back. “You’re fine.”

Cas finally lifts his head, looking at him in wonder. He opens his mouth, but shuts it a second later, apparently unsure what to say. Dean laughs. “You look like a fish, babe.” Cas rolls his eyes and kisses him, slow and unhurried.

When they part, Cas shifts to pull out, lying farther down Dean’s body and resting his cheek on his chest. “Are you… I mean…”

Dean cards his fingers through Cas’s hair, stroking his scalp lightly. Cas shivers and sighs. “I’m fine,” he answers. “I really am.”

Cas turns his head to stare up at him, his chin pressing into Dean’s chest. “Really?”

“Really.” A genuine smile of contentment spreads across Dean’s face. “You did good.” He picks his head up off the pillow only enough to kiss Cas’s forehead, sweat lingering on his lips when he pulls back. “How are _you_?”

Cas hums happily and kisses the anti-possession tattoo before he lies his head back down, wrapping his legs tighter around Dean’s calves. “I can’t even describe it,” he admits, and Dean feels an irresistible sense of pride. “I’m… it was amazing.”

They lie there in silence for a few moments, Dean continuing to stroke his fingers through Cas’s hair. Finally, the mess becomes too annoying to ignore, and he speaks. “So now that we’ve agreed we’re really good in bed _both_ ways, what d’ya say we get cleaned up, huh?”

“That would require getting off of you, wouldn’t it?”

Dean laughs, louder. “Probably, yeah,” he says. “Sorry.” Cas climbs off him and sighs tiredly, lying face up. Dean takes charge and snags the wet wipes and goes to work, gently cleaning them both off. The top sheet is too sweat-dampened to sleep on, so they end up stripping it and throwing it aside to wash in the morning.

As they get ready to sleep, Dean has one last thing on his mind. “I’m still not being the little spoon, Cas,” he complains, his voice practically cursive with exhaustion. “Get over here.” Cas rolls his eyes again and settles back against him, reaching up with both hands and holding onto the arms wrapped around his chest.

“I love you,” Cas whispers after a moment.

Dean’s heart beats a little harder. “I… You too,” he says quietly, kissing the back of Cas’s head.

“Wake me up if you’re… if you’re having a nightmare or anything, or if you can’t sleep.” Cas turns his head to the side to look at him. “Okay?”

“Yeah, I will,” Dean says. Cas twists farther back, and Dean leans his head forward to press their lips together. “Good night.”

“Night.”

**Author's Note:**

> The line was _Happiness is not a burden,_ from Mandy Moore's "[Everblue](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tFmi8KIpK_U)." Go take a listen!
> 
> Obligatory "I DON'T OWN, PLZ DON'T SUE" here.


End file.
